


Away in a Land Rover

by SleepyEye



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Childbirth, Christmas, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Pregnancy, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:34:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21951514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyEye/pseuds/SleepyEye
Summary: Merry Christmas and happy Hanukkah! I've been working on this one for a few days now, which means I basically threw it together compared to my usual months of revisions and stuff, so grace is appreciated.I wanted to make you guys something for Christmas, because you all mean so much to me. I am quite shy, which means I rarely comment and stuff, but I really do love this fandom and all of the things that you guys contribute. You're all so kind and genuine and loving, not to mention incredibly talented. I hope that 2020 will bring lots of good things your way.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 23
Kudos: 39





	1. Prologue

Prologue:

Martha Whittaker died in June of 2013, and twenty-one-year-old Switch LaVey Bloom Whittaker went out to find his father. Switch had taken after Jeff Whittaker in some ways: he shared his father’s love for music, weed, and anarchy. Like his father, Switch had never done especially well in school, to the great disappointment of his guardians. Unlike his father, however, Switch Whittaker was a dog person, a weepy drunk, and completely in awe of the female gender.

Wardle had called Cormoran and Robin in July, informing them that both Jeff Whittaker and Switch were back in London, possibly involved in a heavy-duty drug ring, and that an undercover agent was going in to seek out their supplier. 

“I’m telling you this for a reason,” Wardle had said, “I don’t want you to get involved and fuck up our opperation. I’ll give you regular updates on our findings, if you promise to leave them alone.”

Cormoran promised, and for the most part he held to it. Over the next five months Wardle gave Cormoran regular updates on Switch’s wellbeing, and Cormoran sat in the BMW outside Whittaker’s squat and watched his brother through binoculars. Cormoran didn’t tell Robin about this surveillance, but on the second week she came by the BMW with coffee and joined him. Most of the time he watched Whittaker alone, but he knew that Robin gave him her blessing. 

In August, Cormoran watched from a distance as Switch Whittaker passed off drugs at a bus stop, under his father’s watchful eye. Wardle reported that Whittaker was in possession of several illegal firearms.

In September, Cormoran watched Jeff Whittaker drag Stephanie into a cab. Stephanie was in a long puffer coat in spite of the heat, and she was missing a large chunk of hair. Wardle reported that their informant was moving up in the ranks, gaining Whittaker’s trust. The informant was now working as Whittaker’s bookkeeper.

In October, Cormoran watched Whittaker lock Stephanie out in the rain for hours without a coat. In her soaked T-shirt, Cormoran could tell that Stephanie was obviously pregnant. He watched as Switch sat on the curb next to her with an umbrella. Wardle reported that Whittaker had been picked up for drunken disorderly, but released.

In November, Switch and Cormoran nearly collided in a coffee shop. It was an accident: Cormoran had stepped into the cafe to use the bathroom after an hour of watching Whittaker’s flat, and ran into his baby brother. It was the closest they’d been to one another in eighteen years. Switch nodded, and Cormoran nodded back, avoiding eye contact. Afterwards, Cormoran went back to his flat and drank glass after glass of cheap whiskey that burned going down and burned coming back up. Wardle informed Cormoran and Robin that Whittaker was getting heroin smuggled from Jamaica, but they did not yet have the supplier’s name.

In December, Cormoran watched as Switch and his father got in an argument on the street. Jeff Whittaker was clearly high, and ended up staggering off first. Cormoran watched Switch light a cigarette and weep.


	2. Meet the Family

Christmas roared up like a freight train off the rails, catching everyone off guard. An arctic front added more to the chaos, and left London in a gridlock.

Snow was falling thick and fast outside the office the morning of the 23rd, and Cormoran was glad that he didn’t have to commute in the storm. Robin had needed to take the Land Rover that morning, as she was leaving for Masham directly from the office, and she had come in late and disgruntled from the madhouse of traffic. They were technically closed for the day anyway: the door was shut and bolted. Robin had only come by to finish up some last paperwork.

Cormoran was feeling an odd sense of melancholy that he hadn’t experienced in many years: his aunt and uncle were spending the holiday in Brest, Lucy and the boys were going to Greg’s mums place, and Nick and Ilsa were going to Cornwall. Robin was leaving in the afternoon to drive to Masham. Normally Cormoran felt stifled by all the Christmas invitations, but this year he hadn’t needed to turn anybody down at all. He wasn’t upset with anybody, of course, they all had families and loved ones, and he genuinely enjoyed being alone on Christmas. But still, looking out at the snow rapidly turning to mush on the sidewalk, he allowed himself a minute of deep self pity.  _ All alone on Christmas, like the big lonely fuck you are. No wife, no kids, not even a proper flat. Not that it’s anybody’s fault but your own. You destroy everything that you touch, Cormoran Strike. It’s what you do. _

His trajectory towards self-loathing was derailed by a heavy pounding on the door.

“Did we have anybody scheduled?” he asked Robin.

“No, I intentionally left today blank to catch up on paperwork.”

“Odd. Drop-in?”

“Must be.”

Cormoran opened the door, stood staring for a moment, then shut in and turned his back. His face was white and his eyes were wide.

“Who is it?” Robin asked, “Jesus, Cormoran, what happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I think… I think I might have.”

The pounding on the door started again, making Cormoran jump like he’d been burned.

“Cormoran?” a small, plaintive voice called, “Er- Mister Strike?” 

“Shit.” Cormoran ran his hands over his face and took a deep breath. “Shit, okay.” He turned to Robin, a lost look on his face that she’d never seen before. He didn’t even need to voice the question. She just nodded and gestured for him to move aside. He moved in a daze and sat down heavily on Robin’s desk chair. Robin opened the door. 

Robin immediately understood why Cormoran had been upset. She was staring directly into a pair of dark slanted eyes that she had previously only seen on Leda Strike.

She had heard of Switch LaVey Bloom Whittaker from his father’s Wikipedia page, and though she had only seen him from afar on their stakeouts, he was clearly recognizable and Leda Strike’s son. Leda shone through the boy’s face. He was pale, with dark hair and wide dark eyes like a seal. He was skinny, wiry, with Whittaker’s protruding ears and teeth. Overall the combination of Leda and Whittaker made Switch look utterly vulnerable, like a very beautiful mouse. 

“You must be Robin,” the boy said, “My name is Switch. I’m- well. I’m Cormoran’s brother.”

“Yes, of course. Please, come in.”

“I- er. I’m not alone.”

Robin froze.  _ Surely he wouldn’t bring his father? _ But then Switch jerked his head to somebody in the hallway, and a young woman stepped into view.

“ _ Stephanie _ ?” Robin took a full step backwards. Stephanie cowered in the doorway as if she could make herself disappear, a feat made more difficult by the fact that she was hugely, massively pregnant. Her skinny legs were bare in spite of the cold, her ankles swollen and her knees bruised.

Astounded, Robin wordlessly stepped aside for the couple to come inside. 

“Sit,” she said, gesturing to the sofa, “Would you like some tea?”

“Thank you,” Stephanie said.

“Cormoran? Could you make us some tea?”

“What? Oh! Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Grateful for the task, Cormoran stood and started bustling about the kitchenette.

“I’m sorry to intrude, so close to Christmas,” Switch said, “But we’re in trouble, and we need your help.”

Robin sat on the chair facing the sofa and surveyed the couple. Both Stephanie and Switch were bearing signs of a recent fight, Stephanie with a split lip and Switch with a magnificent black eye. Robin narrowed her eyes at Switch, searching his face for any signs of cruelty or abuse, but she found herself instinctively trusting him. It was apparent that Stephanie felt the same way, because she leaned into Switch with a comfort that Robin had never seen in the girl before.

“Clearly.” She looked Stephanie squarely in the eye, ignoring Switch. “Can you tell me what happened, Stephanie?”

“Who, me?” Stephanie asked.

“Yeah. How’d you hurt your lip, for starters.”

“Jeffrey. He wasn’ happy. He wanted me to take care of some important clients, but they said they didn’t want me, cause of the baby and all that.” She rubbed her belly. “He wasn’ happy about that.”

Switch tightened his arm around Stephanie’s waist. His eyes filled with tears.

“It was terrible,” he murmured, “It was just awful.”

“It wasn’ that bad,” Stephanie said, “But now that there’s a baby comin, that makes things worse.” She looked up at Switch with adoration in her eyes. “Bloom 'ere was wonderful. 'e was so brave. An the baby isn’t even his, neither, but 'e still stood up to his own dad, an told ‘im to stop, and even hit’im. Course Jeffrey didn’t like that either.”

Robin nodded.

“We ran out,” Switch said, “We snuck out around three this morning, when everybody was asleep. But it’s only a matter of time.” He failed to suppress a shudder. “My dad doesn’t like people to take his girls without his permission. Especially not Stephanie.”

Cormoran set the tea tray on the table in front of them. He seemed to have calmed himself since slamming the door in Switch’s face, but Robin noticed a slight tremble in his hands. He pulled over the office chair and sat. Switch turned to him.

“I know you’ve been following me,” Switch said, “I’ve seen you.”

“I have a friend at the Met who told me your great grandmother died,” Cormoran explained, “He said that you’d come down here to find your dad.”

“I had no idea what my dad was like, I swear,” Switch said, “No idea. But I didn’t have nowhere else to go, and he told me that he could get me started in the music industry, and he had good weed. And then I met Steph here…” He squeezed Stephanie and she beamed a smile so sincere and loving that for a moment Robin couldn’t recognize her as the frightened, broken child that she had met years earlier. “Everything changed when we met. It was love at first sight for me.”

“What’s your plan?” Robin asked, “What do you need?”

“Don’t really have one. But I thought, Cormoran has been watching, and he’s educated and all, so maybe he might… I dunno. Have an idea.”

“We need to get you out of London,” Cormoran said, his voice sure. Robin blinked at him. Cormoran, usually hesitant to trust anybody, was jumping in with both feet. “Do you have any place to go? The farther the better.”

“Um.” Switch sipped at his tea and thought. “My great-granddad had a fishing cabin up north in Little Marsden. He left it to me in his will.”

“I know Little Marsden,” Robin said, “That’s near Masham.”

“You’ll never get train tickets this close to Christmas,” Cormoran said. He looked at his watch. “How many hours to Little Marsden?”

“Five hours in good weather,” Switch said.

“How far along are you, Stephanie?”

“Wot?”

“How long have you been pregnant for?”

“Six months.”

“Okay, then.” Cormoran got to his feet. “I’ll drive you.”

Every eye turned and stared at Cormoran. 

“That’s really not-“ Switch started.

“You don’t-“ Stephanie said. Cormoran held up a hand. 

“For fucks sake,” he said, “I’m alone on Christmas. Let me do this.”

“Cormoran,” Robin said, firmly, “A word. In your office.”

Cormoran glanced at Switch, who nodded. Cormoran heaved himself to his feet and followed Robin into the back office. She waited until the door was shut behind her before turning on him.

“Have you lost your bloody mind, Cormoran?” she hissed.

“He’s my brother, Robin. And he’s in trouble.”

“You’ve got a million siblings, Cormoran, and you know as well as I do that you don’t trust them for shit. What’s going on?”

“Switch is different. He’s not Rokeby’s. He’s not some rich snobby fucker.”

“No, he’s not Rokeby’s, he’s Whittaker’s. He’s not some rich fucker, he’s living in a crack den with a murderer.”

Cormoran ran his hands over his face and didn’t answer. Robin softened.

“He looks just like her, doesn’t he,” she said.

“I can’t even look him in the eye,” Cormoran agreed. He rubbed the back of his neck. “But it’s not just that. I’ve been watching him from a distance for months. And I know that it’s stupid, but I have an instinct. A gut feeling. I think I can trust him.” He stared into her eyes, and Robin felt her breath catch. She hoped he hadn’t noticed. 

“Do you trust me?” Cormoran asked.

Robin closed her eyes and nodded.

“I’ll drive,” she said. 

“Wot?”

“I’m going to Masham anyways. And Cormoran, much as I love you, I know that if you drive the BMW in this snow you won’t make it out of London. It doesn’t matter how good your driving is, this weather is unprecedented, and nothing but the Land Rover will get you through it.” 

Cormoran’s brain had flatlined at  _ I love you _ . Everything else might as well have been spoken in Italian.

“Well you’re not going alone,” he said, pulling himself together, “And unless you’re planning on taking me to Masham with you-“

“That’s exactly what I’m planning. So get your fuckin coat.”


	3. Northampton

It was a five hour drive to Little Marsden on the best of days. Today, with Christmas fast approaching and a storm warning blasting across the kingdom, they were inching along at little more than a crawl. 

They were almost entirely silent for the first stretch of the drive, Cormorans leg jumping, Robin biting a hole in her bottom lip. Stephanie fell asleep in the back seat almost immediately. Robin tried turning on the radio, but the high pitched pop carols were jarring and loud, so she turned it off and they rode on in silence. Both Robin and Cormoran kept glancing out the rear-view mirror, making sure that nobody was following them, and on several occasions Robin took sudden turns and merges to lose a car that had been behind them for too long.

Finally Robin swore and shook out her hands. 

“Hand cramp,” she explained to Cormoran’s raised eyebrows, “I must have been gripping the steering wheel too tight.”

“Here.” Cormoran held out his hand. 

“What?”

“Give me your hand. I’m useless on the Land Rover but I know all about hand cramps from my days on crutches.”

Robin placed her hand in his, trying to ignore the spike in her heart rate at the feeling of his fingers on hers. He started by pressing down on her palm, kneading his knuckles in, then each knuckle, each joint. Robin let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” she breathed. Cormoran didn’t let go, continuing to work at her fingers while she drove one-handed.

After two and a half hours, they stopped at Northampton for petrol. There was a cafe by the station, and Cormoran took Switch and Stephanie in while Robin refueled the Land Rover. He ordered four massive fry-ups, and Stephanie and Switch ate like they had been starved, which, knowing Whittaker, probably wasn’t that far off from the truth.

Robin came in and nearly started laughing at the sight of them: two dirty twenty-somethings, both looking like they had just lost a boxing match, neither of them dressed for the weather, Stephanie heavily pregnant. And then there was Cormoran, looking utterly overwhelmed. He spotted her watching and she grinned. He managed a smile and an eye roll.

_ Christ, be still my fucking heart, _ she thought, as she slid into the booth beside Stephanie and laid into her fry-up,  _ His smiles are unfair. _

“Where you folks headed?” the waiter asked. 

“Masham,” Robin said. The waiter laughed.

“Wot, tonight?”

“Ideally.”

“Not in this storm, you’re not. They’re predicting road closures up north, if ya can even get that far.”

Cormoran's phone buzzed and he saw Wardle’s number. He held up a finger to Robin and moved outside, where he answered, huddled against the cold.

“Hiya Wardle.”

“Please tell me your brother isn’t with you," Wardle said.

“Which brother? Al?”

“Don’t play with me. Switch.”

“Ahhh Switch. Well he’s actually not with me-“

“Oh thank god.”

“Because he’s inside the diner while I’m outside talking to you.”

“Dammit, Strike! What part of don’t get involved did I not make clear!”

“The part where my baby brother showed up at my office with his pregnant girlfriend saying that Whittaker was out to kill them both.”

“You forget that Switch is a Whittaker’s son. Why are you so sure you can trust him?”

Cormoran's smile vanished.

“What do you have on Switch?” he asked, “Is he dangerous?”

“Drug dealer, though so far he’s been nonviolent. His dad tried to make him do the initiation thing, but he refused.”

“The initiation thing with the hooker?”

“Ah so you’re familiar.”

“I was a disgusted observer, as a teenager.” He exhaled. “Just tell me, Wardle, how much danger did I just put Robin in?”

“Robin is with you, too?”

“Yeah. She’s the getaway driver.”

“Well, if Jeff Whittaker finds you, you’re all dead. Did that ever cross your mind?”

“Jeff Whittaker has been wanting to kill us both for years. I’m talking about Switch. Is he dangerous?”

“Not that we know of. Yet.” Wardle sounded almost disappointed. “You’re a real dumbass, Cormoran Strike.”

“Duly noted.”

“Where are you? Maybe we can help.”

“Sorry, Wardle, you’re breaking up. Bad phone connection.”

“You and I both know that’s not-”

Cormoran hung up the phone.


	4. The M1

They got back in the car and kept going North. The landscape turned from city to country, and the snow started falling thicker and faster. Road signs blew past them.  _ Leicester, Derby, Nottingham. _

“Cormoran?” Switch asked, leaning forward between the seats.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know anything about my mum. I don’t remember anything about her. Would you... Tell me about her?”

Cormoran thought about this. 

“Mm. You look just like her,” he said, “That’s why I slammed the door in your face. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I understand. It was strange seeing you too. I don’t even remember my mum, but there’s still a… recognition. I knew when you were surveilling us, too. I could just feel it. Even when I couldn’t see you.”

“I shouldn’t have done that. It was a stupid risk to take.”

“No, I’m glad you did. I had researched you, you know. And my dad talked about you all the time, and how he wanted to kill you. So I knew it was you.”

“Well. I’m going to take his death threats as a compliment.” 

He watched the white trees flicker past, listened to the padding of snow on the windshield and the squeaking of the wipers. 

“My mum… Your mum,” Cormoran said, finally, “She cared about everything and everyone. Too much. She cared about the skunks and possums on the fire escapes, and the cockroaches in the bathroom.”

“Clearly she cared about the cockroach in the bedroom, too, if she wound up with my father.”

Cormoran chuckled, relieved to hear that Switch hated Whittaker as much as he did.

“Your parents both loved dark things, but there was a difference. Whittaker loved evil for evil’s sake. Mum loved taking ugliness and turning it beautiful.”

“I was raised by my great grandparents,” Switch said, “They were strict. Didn’t allow for any emotion. Everything had to be pleasant and respectable, and if it wasn’t you’d be sent to the attic.”

“Your dad used to say the same thing.”

“Yeah. My dad is the opposite. When he’s angry he screams and hits things. When he’s sad he cries. When he wants something he takes it. He’s an evil old fuck, but he has no secrets. When I first came to London, that felt like liberation.”

“Until?”

“Until about a week in. I wanted to leave almost immediately. But by that time I’d already met Stephanie, and I couldn’t leave without her.”

Cormoran glanced at Stephanie. She had been quiet on the drive, her eyes closed. Cormoran had assumed that she was asleep, but now he noticed her knuckles were white on the seatbelt. 

“Stephanie?” he said, “Are you alright?”

“Fine.” Her voice was high and choked and Cormoran cursed himself for not checking on her sooner.

“You don’t look fine, love. You look like you’re about to be sick.”

“I been havin’ back pains since Jeffrey went at me. ‘S nuffin.”

“Stephanie,” Robin asked, her eyes meeting the girl’s in the rear-view mirror, “have you been to a doctor at all since finding out you were pregnant?”

Stephanie instinctively crossed her arms across her belly.

“No doctors.”

“Stephanie…”

“No.”

“Maybe we should stop by a hospital,” Robin said, “Get baby looked at.”

Stephanie looked at Switch with plaintive eyes.

“Tell ‘em, Bloom,” she whispered. Switch shut his eyes and sighed.

“Steph was pregnant once before,” he explained, “My dad took her to the doctor and she was given an abortion.”

“We wouldn’t do that, Stephanie,” Robin said. Stephanie gritted her teeth. The look in her eyes was almost feral.

“No. Doctors.”

“Okay.” Robin kept her tone light and conversational. “No doctors.” 

The snow on the highway was building up, and Robin found herself slowing down to avoid skidding. 

“How did you first find out you were pregnant?” Cormoran asked.

“Mm, I started gettin’ sick in the mornings, and I started gettin’ real big.”

“And when was this?”

“Six months ago.”

“And did you take a pregnancy test?”

“Yeh.”

“And how long after having sex did you take the test?”

Stephanie looked confused.

“What d’you mean?”

Robin remembered her first meeting with Stephanie, when the girl mentioned giving blow jobs to an entire band. She probably had some sort of sexual interaction more days than not.

“Don’t worry about that, Stephanie,” Robin said. 

Cormoran turned all the way around to meet Stephanie’s eye straight-on.

“Stephanie, love, sometimes women are pregnant weeks to even months before they start showing signs. It could be that you’re much farther along than you thought.”

“But- no! No, that can’t happen. I can’t have a baby now, I-” Suddenly she gasped, and covered her mouth.

“Stephanie?” Robin asked.

Stephanie shut her eyes.

“Stephy, love,” Switch said, “Talk to me, what happened?”

Stephanie blushed scarlet and whispered something in his ear. His eyes went wide.

“Are you sure?” 

She nodded.

“Er- Robin?” Switch said.

“Yes.”

“Erm. Stephanie says that she wet herself. I’m thinking, maybe…”

“Stephanie, how long have you been hurting?” Cormoran asked, “Today, I mean. How long have you been hurting today?”

“It comes and goes. I mean it’s been on and off since three this morning, but I just thought it was cause of the beatin, I didn’t think…”

“Have the pains been consistent? Like, every ten minutes?”

Stephanie nodded.

“And how long does each pain last?”

“I dunno. I count my breathin, an it’s about ten breaths each time.”

“Okay, Stephanie, you’re probably in the first stage of labor.”

“No, I’m not! I’m not! It’s too soon!”

“Stephy, are we gonna have a baby?” Switch asked, his voice cracking halfway through.

“No! I can’t have a baby in the back of a Land Rover! It’s not safe! It’s not clean! I can’t-”

“Stephanie.” Cormoran’s voice was quiet and firm. “Listen to me.”

Stephanie’s mouth snapped shut. Even in labor, she was programmed to follow orders. 

“You are going to have a baby. It’s going to be a beautiful, healthy little baby, and it is going to be perfect. Okay?”

Stephanie nodded, her chin trembling. Then she let out a little sob and clutched Switch’s hand tightly. Switch winced a bit at the power of her grip, but didn’t let go.

“We’re gonna count it out,” Cormoran said, “One… Two… Three…”

The car lurched as Robin skidded slightly on the icy road. Everything beyond the windows was a flat static grey, as if the world outside the Land Rover was stuck between channels. 

The contraction lasted twenty-five seconds, then Stephanie relaxed, flopping back on the car seat with a sigh.

“Good,” Cormoran said, “Now talk to me. Tell me about the baby.”

“Dunno bout the dad, if that’s what you’re askin.”

“That’s okay. Do you have a name picked out?”

“I was thinkin Joshua, after my bruvver,” she said.

“Ah, so you’re having a little boy. That’s wonderful.”

“I don’t actually know yet. I just think it’s a boy cause I been cravin limes real bad.”

Robin suspected that a lime craving had more to do with a vitamin deficiency than any predictor of gender.

“Bloom ‘ere wants a girl,” Stephanie said, gesturing to Switch, who smiled shyly.

“I’ll be happy with anything, you know that,” he said, “You could birth a… a lizard, and I’d be happy.”

Stephanie started giggling.

“A  _ lizard _ ?”

Switch looked utterly pleased with himself for making her laugh. He beamed down at Stephanie with a look of such pure adoration, Cormoran felt something cracking open in his chest, something painful and sincere and frightening.

In spite of the snow, Robin kept the Land Rover in high gear, the gas pedal pressed all the way to the floor. It was dark outside now, and the headlights reflected off the thick falling snow, giving everything a surreal outer-space feeling. Her phone was dead and she had no map, so she just drove, following her internal compass to Masham. 


	5. Midwife Strike

Another contraction, coming and going. In the front seat, Robin was scanning the road for any sign of a hospital and trying to keep the tears from falling. _This was not the Christmas I had in mind._

Stephanie gave a strangled cry in the back of the Land Rover, and tears leaked down into her ears. Switch’s eyes also welled up, although Cormoran wasn’t sure if he was crying in sympathy or because Stephanie was gripping his hand so tightly. Cormoran checked his watch.

“It’s been six minutes since your last one ended,” he said, “You’re doing great. Your body is getting you ready to meet your baby, Stephanie, that’s wonderful!”

Stephanie’s mouth was drawn down into a grimace of agony.

“Breathe, love,” Switch said, “Breathe out, remember the videos we watched?”

Stephanie pursed her lips and blew out as hard as she could.

“Good job,” Cormoran said, “Great job.”

Her fingers released their grip on Switch's hands and she relaxed her shoulders, sobbing a bit.

“Okay, Stephanie, I’m going to tell you a little story, alright?” Cormoran asked. Stephanie nodded, eyes still shut. “When I was younger, my mum, who’s also Switch’s mum, lived in a flat in Brixton with me and my sister and a white Rastafarian named Shumba.”

Stephanie managed a tremulous smile.

“Now, while we were in Brixton we had a neighbor named Auntie Maria, who took care of everybody. If you were sick, you went to Auntie Maria, and she would make you better.”

Switch was watching Cormoran with hungry eyes, starving for any information about Leda.

“Now our mum was often pretty busy, and Lucy and I would go hang out with Auntie Maria as she went around from flat to flat. We saw her help people with the flu, with migraines, and, inevitably, with pregnant women and women in labor. So, Stephanie, I want you to know, I’m gonna take care of you, okay? We’re going to get you to a hospital, but until then you’ve got me, and Switch, and Robin, and we all love you very much, okay?”

Stephanie sniffed.

“Do you understand me, Stephanie? Can you say okay?”

“‘Kay.”

“Good.”

Another contraction hit her, and she grit her teeth, her eyes squeezed shut. Cormoran undid his seatbelt.

“Sorry, Robin, scuse me, I’m just gonna- ow, FUCK!” He attempted to crawl over the back of the seat and ended up getting stuck halfway, while Robin swerved the car wildly. Stephanie managed a breathless giggle through her pain.

“Take two, here I come- Ow, Jesus, shit.” With a sort of graceless half-shimmy, Cormoran managed to wiggle his way into the back of the Land Rover with Stephanie and Switch. By the time he managed to crawl to the back, the contraction had abated some.

“Hi,” he said, with a smile.

“Hi.”

“Okay, so Stephanie, you next contraction will be here again soon, so what I want you to do, is I want you to take little panting breaths with me, okay? We’re going to practice. Switch, you join us too. Four little pants, and then one big exhale. Follow me.” He demonstrated. _Huf huf huf huf HAAA._ “Can you do that?”

They could. Robin, navigating the treacherous highway, found herself unconsciously joining in. _Huf huf huf huf HAAA._ The four of them in perfect harmony, huffing their way down the highway, through the storm.

“Little pants,” Switch said, “Like what the baby’ll wear.”

“Wot?”

“Our baby. They’ll wear little pants.”

Stephanie started giggling.

“I wear little pants,” she said, “My lacy thongs are little pants.” 

Now Switch was giggling too, and Cormoran was looking between the two of them like they were both utterly mad.

“Oooh here it comes,” Stephanie said, “It’s gettin’ worse, it’s gettin’ OOOOHHH-” Tears ran down her face.

“Come on, Stephy, remember the lacy thongs!”

“DON’T YOU MAKE ME LAUGH, SWITCH LAVEY BLOOM!” Stephanie roared, but it was too late, she was choking on her giggles.

_Huf huf huf huf HAAA._

Cormoran had only ever been to one live birth with Auntie Maria, but he used to sit at her formica table while she filled tea bags and pill capsules. Her walls were covered in old roll-down medical charts: larger-than-life fetuses in each stage of development, cervixes in the stages of dilation, various birth positions. _Cephalic anterior, occipito-posterior, external cephalic._ Cormoran had liked Latin even then.

Cormoran had been terrified of Maria, with her gold teeth and her moles, but Lucy had been fascinated, and he had followed his sister out of a sense of brotherly duty. When their neighbor Adriana had gone into labor, Lucy had dragged Cormoran along and they had watched from behind the sofa as Maria had worked. He remembered the hot, dimly lit flat, with a thick smell of sweat and candles. He remembered watching Auntie Maria barking out instructions, having Adriana stand and sit, making her climb the stairs in the flat as Adriana cried. Maria had spoken to Adriana in Creole rather than Latin, but he understood what she was saying all the same. _Respire, respire, gwo souf._ Big breaths. He hadn’t thought about Maria in years, but now he could hear her as if she was right there beside him. _Noutmèg, lwil Castor, entènèt Spider._ He and Lucy had gone up and down the corridors, collecting spiderwebs to put on the umbilical cord.

“How is it now?” Switch asked her.

“A bit better.”

There was a gentle grinding and thump as the car rumbled to a halt.

“Shit,” Robin murmured. She revved the engine, and the wheels spun, but there was no movement.

“What?”

“Too much snow on the road.”

“Shit.”

Stephanie’s voice rose again in anguish, her back arching, her teeth clenched.

“Is there any way to get it going again?” Switch asked, over Stephanie’s wail, “Can we put down sand, or a mat, or anything?”

“There’s lights up ahead, it looks like a petrol station. If we can get there, we can probably find a phone or something.” She opened the door and peered out. “Cormoran, Switch, we need to push the car just a little bit further.”


	6. The Heavenly Chorus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but it just felt right.

It was frozen outside, the air like a slap across the ears. The snow had turned to sleet, which melted under Cormoran’s collar and ran in an icy river down his spine.

“ON THREE,” Robin roared, leaning out the window, “ONE… TWO… THREE… PUSH!”

She hit the gas. The men leaned all their weight against the back of the car. The wheels spun. Inside, Stephanie let out a high scream of anguish as she, too, pushed.

The wheels found a moment of traction, and the car lurched forward, sliding sickeningly on the icy slush, and sending up a frozen spray that soaked Cormoran and Switch from head to toe. They let out a cheer and jogged to catch up and jump in.

Robin inched the car over to the petrol station. The parking area was brightly lit, but her heart sank when she saw that everything inside the station was dark. She didn’t know what she had been expecting, considering the storm and the time of night. 

She tried to keep her tone light as she turned back to Stephanie.

“Alright,” she said, “I’m going to go knock on some doors, see if anybody is home.”

Stephanie just groaned in response.

The cold hit Robin like a wave, and nearly sent her reeling back into the warmth of the car. But she fought past it, and, tightening her scarf around her face, she made her way to the Costa Express at the station.

“HELLO?” she shouted, pounding on the door, “IS ANYBODY THERE? WE NEED HELP! HELP!”

She moved from window to window, hammering on the glass. She wondered if it was alarmed. If it was, she could break the glass and the police would be automatically called. 

A volley of snow sliding off the roof of the station dissuaded her of that idea. No policeman, however dedicated, would come out in this weather to investigate a security alarm at a petrol station. 

She squinted through the sleet to a large, decrepit looking building with several beaten up Volkswagen buses in front. It appeared from the outside that nobody had lived there in ages, but she didn’t have much to lose. She slogged across the lot and started pounding on the windows.

“HELP!” she hollered, “HELP US! PLEASE!”

She rested her head against the wall, trying to stop the tears from falling, trying to keep her energy up, but hopelessness was falling fast, and there was nobody, nobody…

A beam of torch light flashed down at her, and she looked up at it like it was the star of wonder itself, shining in the west.

“HELLO? IS ANYBODY THERE? WE NEED HELP!”

The light focused on her, and she looked up to see that it was pointing out of an open upstairs window. The heavenly chorus rang out from on high...

“Jaysus, what t’fook are ya doin’ out on a night like this?”


	7. The Queen Bee

The cafe was opened by a woman who Robin estimated to be in her late sixties or early seventies. 

“I’m sorry to bother you," Robin said, "But my friend is in labor, and we got stuck in the snow.”

The woman immediately jumped into her game face.

“Right. Less ‘av a look.”

Robin led her out to where the Land Rover was waiting, lit up like a lighthouse in the storm. Stephanie’s high wails could be heard, even over the moaning of the wind.

“Where are ya drivin’ from?” the woman called.

“London,” Robin shouted back.

“I’m surprised you got as far as ya did. I ‘ad to kip out in the cafe cause the snow’s too bad.” The woman peered in through the window of the Land Rover and frowned. “Jaysus Christ.” 

“Yeah.” Robin opened the door up and the woman stuck her head in.

“‘Ey up,” she said cheerily, “My name’s Beatrix, but you can call me Queenie. Everybody round here does.” Stephanie stared at Queenie like she had never seen another human before. “What’s your name, darlin?”

“Stephanie,” Stephanie whispered.

“Alright, Stephanie you came to the right place. I’m no doctor, but I got four of me own babies, and I been present at all of my sisters’. So let’s ‘ave these fine gentlemen ‘elp you up to the cafe and we’ll check you out.” She turned to Robin. “And what’s your name, luv?”

“I’m Robin.”

“Right. Let’s go get some things prepared, shall we?”

Robin followed Queenie back to the cafe. She was now thoroughly drenched from head to toe. Her fingers were numb, and her hair was frozen into stiff curly icicles. For a moment the relief of entering the warm cafe was so strong, Robin didn’t have a chance to look around her.

“Power’s been out fer hours,” Queenie said, “But we got a gas furnace, and a log stove, and plenty of lanterns. Always prepared, tha’s what I say.”

She lit a match and busied herself lighting candles and hurricane lanterns around the room. Robin’s eyes widened as she took the place in. In the dim, shadowy light, she could make out walls covered in license plates, shelves filled with vintage toys, no two light fixtures the same.

“Nothin sets a mood like candlelight, right?” Queenie said.

“Is this your cafe?”

“Aye. The Queen Bee. We got lot's of what they call personality. There’s a kettle in the sink, filled with water. Be a love and put it on the wood stove, and set it to boil. I’m goin’ ta get as many sheets and towels as I can. It’s warmer down ‘ere, so tha’s where we’ll do it.” She looked Robin over. “You ever delivered a baby before?”

“No. But I’ve watched a lot of Call the Midwife, does that count?”

Queenie hooted in laughter.

“Maybe so. That show sure doesn’t leave nothin out.”

Queenie had just returned with a stack of clean blankets and towels when the door swung open again, and Cormoran and Switch lead Stephanie inside. She was clearly in the middle of another contraction, her head thrown back in pain, and Cormoran and Switch had to practically carry her over the threshold. Side-by-side, the resemblance between Cormoran and Switch was slightly more visible. They had the same dark eyebrows, the same wide nose, the same height. Stephanie barely came up to their shoulders. 

“Right, the first thing we need t’do is get all of yeh clean and dry,” Queenie said, loudly over the sound of Stephanie keening, “Ya have any spare clothes?”

“I do,” Robin said, “I was planning on a trip to Masham. But I believe I’m the only one.”

The others nodded in agreement.

“No worries,” Queenie said, “We got some spare T-shirts and track shorts behind the bar, I’m sure we can get ya all fitted up in no time.”

Another contraction rolled over Stephanie, and she sank to her knees on the cafe floor.

“Let’s start with the boys gettin changed, while Robin and I check out Stephanie, shall we?” 

“Sounds good,” Cormoran said, so fast that Robin had to hide a smile. He was clearly eager to get as far away from the screaming woman as possible. Switch was more hesitant.

“I’m gonna be just around the corner, love,” he said to Stephanie, “Robin and Queenie’ll look after you, okay?”

Stephanie nodded through her tears, and the men ducked behind the bar.

“The clothes are under the counter,” Queenie called to them, “I’m afraid I only got the shirts that say Queen Bee on em, so you’re just goin ta have to be queen bees tonight. You two go change, and Robin and I will look after Stephanie.”

The men ducked behind the bar, where Robin could hear them fumbling to get changed in the dark. She was still shivering in her icy clothes, and was profoundly envious of them.

“Are you comfortable, Stephanie?” Queenie asked. Stephanie was lying on her back on the floor, holding her knees to her chest, her teeth bared as her body was wracked with cramps.

“No of course I’m not bloody comfortable!” Stephanie shouted, “I’m pushing a fucking human out my minge!”

Queenie ducked her head to hide her grin.

“I like you, girl. But I meant are ya warm enough.”

“Oh." Stephanie took a deep breath. "Yeh.”

“Good. Now let’s try to get you onto the big table. I put some clean sheets and towels down.” Robin helped Queenie half-lift Stephanie up onto the sturdiest of the wooden dining tables. “Let’s try getting you on your hands and knees. Can you do that for me?”

Panting, Stephanie rolled over onto her knees.

“Is that better for your discomfort?” Queenie asked.

“‘Bit.” Stephanie hung her head. “Sorry I yelled at you.”

“Oh, love, you should ‘ave heard the things I called my ‘usband when mine were born.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I told everyone in the room that it was ‘is lopsided dick what did this to me, and it was ‘im that should be feelin the pain.”

“I... dunno... who the dad is,” Stephanie gasped, “But if I did know... I’d give’im... a knee in the bollocks.”

Queenie laughed.

“Now, Stephanie, do you mind if I take a look between your legs?” she asked.

Stephanie smiled an exhausted smile.

“Funny,” she said, head sagging, “You’re askin more permission to get baby out than anybody asked when puttin baby in.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Aye, that’s a yes.”

Cormoran and Switch came over, sporting track shorts and T-shirts emblazoned with the words “QUEEN BEE,” just in time to see Queenie shining a flashlight between Stephanie’s legs. They both reeled back for a moment before gathering themselves.

“Cormoran, luv, Robin mentioned that you ‘ad some experience in the world of childbirth.” Queenie said. 

“Minimal.”

“Why don’t you come over ‘ere and take a look with me?”

Cormoran glanced at Switch, hoping that his brother might raise some sort of objection, but Switch just nodded, so Cormoran hesitantly edged over to where Queenie was standing.

“I would say that baby’s crowning, wouldn’t you?” she asked.

Cormoran looked once and then quickly looked away, unable to answer. He put a hand to his mouth and nodded.

“Alright. Now Cormoran, I’m going to ask you to stay back here with me. Can ya handle that?”

He nodded again.

“Good.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I’d ask the kid but I think he’d be sick.”

“Probably right, there.”

“What’s his name?”

“Switch.” Queenie raised an eyebrow and Cormoran smiled. “Don’t even ask.”

“Right. Okay.” She turned to Switch. “Switch, love, I’m going to have you come and face Stephanie, and Stephanie you’re going to hold him. Like you’re dancing, okay? Robin, you stand behind Switch and hold Stephanie’s hands. And Stephanie, you’re going to put one leg up, like you’re kneeling.” She gently positioned them both until they suited her needs. “Cormoran, you and I are goin t’sit and help baby as it comes out.”

“Okay,” Cormoran said. He touched Stephanie’s ankle. “Stephanie?” Stephanie looked over her shoulder at him. “You know how we did little pants before?”

“Yeh.”

“Right now we’re switching it up. When you have a contraction you’re going to breathe out, big big breaths, and you’re going to focus everything down, just focus on getting the baby out. Okay?”

“Kay-“ she didn’t have long to wait. Her voice rose in agony. 

“Breathe out! Big big breaths!” Cormoran demonstrated by blowing out as hard as he could. 

“Forget the little pants,” Switch cried, “ No more G-strings, we’re taking granny panty breaths! Big billowing bloomers!”

Even in the depths of her anguish, Stephanie managed to laugh. 

“Push, love, push!” Queenie shouted, “Push as hard as you can!”

Stephanie shook her head, tears and snot mingling on her face.

“I see a head!” Cormoran said, “Your baby has hair, Stephanie!”

“Hair?” Stephanie gasped. 

“Big big big push, love,” Queenie said, “Big push and the head will be out.”

“I can’t! I can’t!”

“You can!” Robin shouted, “Look at me! Squeeze all the pain into my hands! You can do it!”

Switch’s words were pouring out in a steady stream. 

“You’re doin so good, stephy, you’re so good and strong and brave and magical. I love you so much and I’ll always love you you’re perfect you’re perfect-“

Stephanie’s voice rose into a high shriek, then her pain was beyond words.

“PUSH, YOU’RE DOING GREAT YOU’RE DOING SO GOOD COME ON GIRL-“ Robin chanted, gripping Stephanie’s swollen hand.

“PUUUUUSH!” Queenie roared, with all the passion of a drill sergeant. “PUUUUSH!”

The head started to make its way out with a rush of fluid, and Cormoran was suddenly absolutely sure that he was going to be sick before the night was over.

“Oh fuck,” Cormoran murmured, “Oh fuck oh fuck there’s the head. And there’s a shoulder. Oh fuck--”

Stephanie roared, the sanctified roar of the woman at the end of her rope, giving more than she thought she could.

“Holy shit, Stephanie, holy fuck-“

It looked to Cormoran like something profoundly unnatural and perverse, a tiny body coming out of a bigger body, slimy wet limbs, nearly human but not quite there.

“IF YOU’RE GOING TO FAINT, CORMORAN, DO IT SOMEWHERE ELSE!” Queenie shouted.

“Right. Right. I’m fine, really.” 

“Stephanie, love,” Queenie said, “You’re doing so good, you’ve gotten the head out, that’s the hardest part. Now we’re just going to ease the body out…”

“One more push, Stephanie,” Cormoran said. 

Robin brushed the hair out of Stephanie’s eyes.

“Are you ready to meet your baby, Stephanie?” she asked. Stephanie was sobbing, but she nodded. “Okay, here we go. PUSH!”

The little warm body sagged into Queenie’s hands as Stephanie wept. And then there was silence.

They waited. They watched. There was not a breath taken in the room. It was only a moment, but it felt like months, years of waiting, watching for a breath, a cry, any sign of life. Nobody dared to blink. A lifetime passed, a generation.

Then a baby crying.

“Fetch me that towel, Cormoran, please.”

The command took its time reaching Cormoran’s brain. Finally he blinked, nodded, and grabbed the fluffy towel nearest to him. Queenie wrapped the squirming newborn in the towel and handed it to Stephanie.

“Ye have a son, Stephanie.”


	8. Names

The baby was red and new and tiny, with wailing red gums and dark spikes of hair. His voice was high as he cried, his tiny baby fingers grasping out for something to hold onto. 

Cormoran took one look at the baby, muttered “Cigarette,” and bolted out the front door.

Queenie cut the cord and held Stephanie’s hand through the delivery of the placenta. Even while the contractions continued, Stephanie refused to let go of the baby, smiling down at him while he kicked and wailed. She finally gave him over to Switch while Robin helped her out of her dress to nurse. The dress was stained with feces and blood and what seemed like months of grime from being trapped with Whittaker, and Robin had cut it off of her with scissors. 

“Jesus Robin,” Queenie said, looking at Robin like she had never seen her before, “You’re still in your wet things! Go change before you catch your death, I’ll take care of this one.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, go get dry.” 

Robin changed out of her wet clothes and dried her hair by the wood stove as Queenie helped Stephanie clean and feed the baby. The new family sat bathed in candlelight, bundled in towels and blankets, filled with love. Robin felt unnecessary and almost voyeuristic watching them. 

She hadn’t wanted children with Matthew. She had never really wanted children at all, if she was being honest with herself. And now with her job, a baby was almost entirely out of the picture. She had chosen this: single, childless, a career woman. It was what she wanted, and ever since she’d signed the final divorce papers she had never given it a second thought. Independence had been her mantra, her goal, her guide. But here in the dark, looking at the family in the ring of candlelight, she felt deeply, painfully lonely.

  
  


She found Cormoran outside, his back to her. It was well below freezing, and he only had his coat thrown on over the T-shirt and shorts. She could see his shoulders shaking. He dropped the last of his cigarette in the snow and turned to face her.

She took his frozen hands in hers and brought them to her mouth and breathed heat into hem, rubbing them between her own until he regained feeling in his fingertips. She put their joined hands in her coat pockets, close to her body. Cormoran took a step closer. He leaned his forehead against hers. Even with her eyes closed, Robin could feel the heat from his tears on his face. His breath shook as he exhaled. Robin twined her fingers with his.

“Come home with me,” she whispered. Cormoran nodded. 

“Okay.”

She sighed, relaxing into him. Cormoran cleared his throat.

“Love you,” he rasped.

“Yeah.” She buried her face in his neck. “Love you too.”

Cormoran felt her shaking, but he didn’t know if it was from the cold or from emotion. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. They rocked slightly in the dark, like dancers. 

They were interrupted by the door swinging open.

“Come inside, it’s bloody freezing out!” Switch called. Robin laughed against Cormoran’s shoulder.

“I mean it,” Switch said, “we’re wetting the wee fella’s head. Join us!”

Cormoran and Robin went back inside, hand in hand. Nobody in the room knew them well enough to recognize the significance of this, but Cormoran could feel Robin’s pulse and he knew that she knew. 

Stephanie was lying in a booth, snow packed between her legs, the baby asleep in her arms. She looked barely conscious, but she smiled when she saw Robin and cormoran. 

“I should sleep,” she murmured, “but I can’t stop lookin’ at ‘im.”

Queenie had a dusty old bottle of what looked like moonshine, and she was pouring generous amounts into four glasses, which she handed to Cormoran, Robin, and Switch. 

“Do you have a name for the little one then?”

“I was thinkin. I dunno who the proper dad is, an Switch don’t want to use ‘is dad’s last name.” Stephanie looked down, blushing, then looked up at Robin. “So we were thinkin… thinkin Robin. Robin Joshua Strike.”


	9. The First Night

They knew that sleep would be, for the most part, useless, so they barely even tried. The moonshine was made of peaches and burned all the way down, warming them from the inside out. Cormoran and Robin shared a blanket, pressing close. Sometimes they managed to doze, curled in against each other, before the baby started crying again. It seemed like not a minute went by without somebody crying, whether it was the baby, Stephanie, or Switch. 

The alcohol and the exhaustion gave everything a dreamlike quality, and Robin had the eerie sensation that they had always been here and would always be here: there was nothing but the eternal night, flickering with firelight, the sound of whispers and a baby crying. She buried her face in Cormoran’s chest.

Around two in the morning, as Cormoran was limping back from the toilet, Switch called him over.

“You want to hold him, Cormoran?” Switch asked.

“Ah. Mm. Alright.”

“Here, support his head… Ha! You could hold him with one hand alone.”

The child was warm, heavier than Cormoran would have thought, his soft head fitting easily into the palm of Cormoran’s massive hand. Cormoran felt like he was holding a loaf of bread fresh from the oven, or a newly laid egg. The infant had fine brown hair, and giant ears like a mouse. His mouth pursed in his sleep.

“I’m thinking we could call him Robby for short,” Switch said.

“That’s a good name,” Cormoran agreed.

“When Stephy was pregnant I used to hope and hope that the baby wouldn’t look like me. Because if he looked like me, that would mean he was my brother. And every time we looked at him, we would see my dad. But now…” Switch sniffed. “He looks just like me. And I just love him so much.”

“You looked just like this when you were first born,” Cormoran said, “You could be twins.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Only you have your mum’s eyes. Your eyes were massive as a baby." Cormoran grinned. "Took up your whole fuckin face.”

“Were you there when I was born?”

“Not the day of, I was off at university. But I came back to visit as soon as I heard.”

Cormoran had been nineteen, and he had despised his new infant brother. He had put on a good show for his mother, of course. But Switch had been the tether that tied Leda to Whittaker. His mother would never leave Whittaker with a child between them. So Cormoran had hated the baby, and hated himself for feeling that way. 

“She loved you,” Cormoran said, “She loved you more than anything in the world.” 

_ She died for you. _

Robin came up behind Cormoran and wrapped her arms tight around his waist.

“You know you have a sister, too,” Cormoran said, “Her name is Lucy.”

“I know. I’d like to meet her.”

Lucy had had none of Cormoran’s hate, as a child. She had loved baby Switch as soon as she had laid eyes on him, and had begged Leda to bring him to Cornwall and live with them there. Leda had refused, of course. _ He needs his father,  _ she had said. Up until that point Cormoran had allowed himself to believe that his mother was being held against her will: he had told himself that she knew how dangerous Jeff Whittaker was, but she was too afraid to leave. With those words, however, he had seen the depths of her delusion. She had no idea who her husband really was. She had chosen to look away, to remain naive, and it had killed her.

The baby started fussing again, and Switch took him back, the exchange from one man’s arms to another’s so cautious and careful they could have been passing off an atomic bomb. Switch looked down at the whining baby and beamed.

“Jesus, I’ve never been more bloody terrified in my life,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. Cormoran gripped Robin’s hands, where they were clasped around his waist, and smiled. 

“I know what you mean.”


End file.
